


Sundown

by AlgernonInWonderland



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Band Break Up, Band Fic, Character Study, F/F, Feels, Growing Up Isn't Easy, Hozier Lesbians, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Romance, Shoegaze Lesbians, Slice of Life, Song: Sunlight (Hozier), Useless Lesbians, time skip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:07:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23097571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgernonInWonderland/pseuds/AlgernonInWonderland
Summary: “Wanna give that Slowdive song another try? What was it, again… Altogether?” Rose calls from across the room. “Or maybe we could start an improvised photoshoot? Your old Polaroid is gathering dust…”She'll do anything to avoid talking about what will happen next, when their lycée days are over, when she has to move to a different city with her parents, maybe.“Both sound pretty good to me!” Juleka answers. “Unless you wanna do something else?”“The film is still in the fridge, right?” Rose all but states as she walks out the door. “I'll be right back.”
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Past Luka Couffaine/Marinentte Dupain-Cheng| Ladybug
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	Sundown

The guitar’s roar gets louder and louder still, more frantic, and if not for the soundproofing Anarka has finally decided to invest in, Sabrina’s father would be here to yell at them and shove his shiny new captain insignia in their faces. Ivan is struggling to keep up. If Luka has the same problem, it doesn’t show on his face or in his strumming, but then again, he is Luka Couffaine, guitar hero extraordinaire, a magazine has even called him Jagged Stone’s heir, so this is hardly surprising. And now is her time to sing. She takes a deep breath. Three, two, one and— Why is Juleka still playing? Right, they had talked about it, her bad, fuzzy memories, that’s it. And besides, Juleka is terrific as always, always finds a way to bring a smile to her lips, and she sways along to the music. Alright, it’s her turn now, the last notes of the song in three, two, one…

“I’ve made up my mind,” Rose growls, and she knows she doesn’t sound quite right. “It’s now or ne—” Her voice cracks, she curses under her breath, probably too close to the mic, and her other bandmates stop playing immediately.

“I’m sorry, you guys,” she winces as she turns to them, Ivan with his perplexed expression, Luka with his mask of coolness but his grip on his plectrum a little tighter than necessary and Juleka with concern written all over her face. “I don’t know what’s with my voice today. Should we give it another try?”

It would be a shame not to, really. It’s been months since they’ve played together as a band, Luka always finds new gigs and tours which keep him very busy and often out of the country, Ivan and Juleka go to different lycées and with the baccalauréat exam soon approaching, finding the time for a jam session has been nearly impossible. They’ve even put on their costumes for old time’s sake! (They really haven’t aged all that well, and though Luka keeps repeating that he and Marinette are still friends, it’s always awkward when they’re in the same room, so asking her to make them new ones is out of the question.)

“I’unno, I’ve got so many things to do at home, and Éloïse wanted to go out tonight so…” Ivan fiddles with his drumsticks and looks down.

They have yet to meet his new girlfriend in person but he talks about her all the time, and if his Instagram is anything to go by, they are the “embarrassing PDA” sort of couples so perhaps it isn’t such a bad thing that she remains a mysterious stranger to Rose. But that’s besides the point, which is that Ivan is trying to bail on them and that if she is the only one to complain about it, he’ll succeed. So what if they’re not as good as they used to be? What if they’ve practiced for thirty minutes without any of their old songs sounding good or fun? What if they’ve all grown out of screamo? At least they could talk about it, they could rename the band and write new songs or even just break up instead of doing whatever Ivan thinks he’s doing, maintaining that awkward kind of status quo.

And yet, Luka says nothing, Juleka looks like she wants to object but ultimately stays quiet, and Rose is all too aware of the fact that she’ll be the mean one if she’s the only band member to try to make Ivan stay a little longer, or something like that. And so she just watches him pack his things and go. It’s alright, she tells herself. It’s the nice thing to do, even if that silence is all too awkward. It’s not like there’s a shortage of teenage drummers in Paris anyway. Hell, they could even ask Chat Noir to fill that role. Even though it’ll never feel the same without Ivan. But they’re not in collège anymore, and in a few months, they won’t even be in lycée, and staying attached to old things no matter what isn’t an adult thing to do, mum and dad say so and they might just be right.

As soon as Ivan closes the door behind with a small “see you around!”, Juleka’s shoulders sag, Luka tries to look composed once again, he’s doing his breathing exercises as he often does whenever he tries to keep his head cold. They’re not in the mood for music right now, neither is she, and she can’t blame them for that. Hawk Moth could almost akumatise her right now. What was meant to be a fun jam session after school has turned into… Whatever that was. She feels ridiculous wearing that ratty old costume. What were they thinking? Luka has already taken off his (it’s one size too small now) and Juleka has done the same (that shade of purple really clashes with her new pink bangs). It’s barely a quarter past seven, which means they’ll only have dinner in about an hour or so. Great. She has to say something, because otherwise Juleka will just feel guilty and mope around and moping does not look good on her girlfriend.

“Hey babe,” Rose bats her eyelashes. “Would you be in the mood for… Homework?”

“Ugh… That was terrible, dude,” Juleka groans, but there’s a smile in her voice. “I mean, yeah, we could probably do that, I have that dissertation due for tomorrow and Mme Vassevière will kill me if—”

“Girls, I could really use a your help here,” Luka says. He is hunched over the drum kit, taking it apart.

Unplugging everything and putting the cables and pedals and amps where they originally were takes little time though at this point Rose really shouldn’t be surprised, they’ve done it all before, albeit in a better mood most of the time. She even gets to steal a kiss from Juleka before they go upstairs. It’s harder to write the answers to your algebra assignment when you allow your girlfriend to claim your right hand to get some much-needed courage. Rose manages nevertheless, she can safely say she has become ambidextrous at this point. They can take their time, Luka will take care of the meal tonight, he always does whenever he is back at the houseboat, even though Anarka always insists she should be the one cooking for him. And from the smell of it, pasta a la bolognese it will be… Or at least the vegetarian version of it.

Juleka is done with her first draft when Anarka comes in with a tired look and a baguette under her arm, and says, “The Dupain-Cheng family says “hi”, and Adrien too! Are you really sure he and your friend Marinette aren’t dating?”

“They keep saying they’re just close friends,” Juleka mumbles. “I think it might be true.”

“A shame, really, they are practically made for each other,” Rose adds.

Luka just shrugs, with a look that screams “What are you expecting me to say?”

Anarka fusses over her son, which can only mean that he wanted to surprise her with his presence tonight. It’s always fun to see the eldest Couffaine sibling turn red as a beetroot and act all aloof but hug his mother back with a bright smile nevertheless. After that, Rose can’t say she is able to fully concentrate on her homework, not that it really matters; she has learned her lessons and unless things go terribly wrong, she should be ready for tomorrow’s physics test. Soon enough, the meal is ready.

“I’m glad mum had bought these heating lamps,” Juleka whispers to her as they set the table on the houseboat’s deck. “When I was little, I always wanted to eat outside even in the middle of winter, we tried it once because I was being stubborn, and the very next day, we were all sick!”

“Childhood dream come true?” Rose offers. She can understand all too well why her girlfriend would have wanted that. There is something mesmerising about the way the river flows endlessly and the city moves above them in a show of headlights, even though the Couffaine houseboat has been her second home for quite long, the effect hasn’t lessened.

“Something like that,” Juleka nods.

There is no denying it, Luka is a good cook. He doesn’t boast about it, in fact he repeatedly asks if everything is alright, if he hasn’t put too much parmesan this time (he hasn’t). Rose has to fetch a scrunch to keep her hair from getting new tomato-coloured highlights. Perhaps it is the sign she needs to get a haircut? It really has gotten long, even longer than Juleka’s back in collège. Dinner is always a good time at the Couffaines’, it’s a little more lively than in has been in quite some time, with Luka’s temporary return, and he indulges them with all sorts of anecdotes. Having him do all the talking isn’t so bad, it helps avoid uncomfortable topics such as…

“So, Rose dear, any feedback from Marseilles yet?”

Oh, Anarka, you know just how to make things uncomfortable in a matter of minutes.

“They should be sending me an email at the end of the month,” she replies with a polite smile.

And Luka, who is unaware of the whole thing, has to make it even worse and asks, “you’re moving to Marseilles?”

“My parents are,” she says. “New job opportunity, you know… And the law school there is really good! But it’s not fully decided yet! Maybe the Sorbonne’s selection board will like my application file and maybe I’ll get a good enough grant and even student housing, but they only give definitive answers in May…”

“That’s in, like, three months,” Luka interrupts. That’s plenty of time.”

“And my offer still stands,” Anarka adds. “We’d really be happy to have you here…”

She doesn’t want to look at Juleka right now, she doesn’t want to see her hopeful face, because she simply isn’t sure what to say, there’s so little she can do about this entire situation and she just can’t give a clear answer right now. She wants to say something safe and consensual, something that will make everyone happy even if it doesn’t mean much.

A loud cracking sound saves her the trouble. Sure enough, the noise is followed by a distant mad cackling, and she knows all too well what is happening, and at this point, she is neither afraid nor surprised, they’ve all learned to live with it. And here they are to save the day, Ladybug and Chat Noir — she can make out their shapes jumping from rooftop to rooftop and making it look stupidly easy— and some other heroes, is that… Carapace? She isn’t sure, she hasn’t brought her binoculars with her. A few bright flashes and ear-piercing booms later, a swarm of light and butterflies appears out of nowhere and Rose has to shield her eyes with her hand not holding Juleka’s for a second. When she looks back, the two heroes are kissing while Carapace (it’s him, she is sure) looks away. These two and PDA… It’s been a quick one but then again, they’ve been at it for what, four years, five years now? They’ve gotten ridiculously good at this.

The apple pie is lukewarm when they finally get around to eating it. That hardly matters, they are all in a good mood and even served cold, pie is a good dessert. As always, Rose insists she should help with the dishes and Juleka reluctantly lets her while Luka rummages through his things. At last he brandishes a small wooden box with a bright smile.

“Ma, Jules, Rose, for old time’s sake?” he asks. “I brought the good stuff.”

Rose tenses at that. It’s not that she doesn’t _want_ to, she likes having a smoke from time to time, but tomorrow is a school day, and her parents are going to kill her if they find out about that, and she is trying to get Juleka to quit using so often since Anarka isn’t doing anything about it. Stoned Juleka is fun, a lot more carefree and chatty than regular Juleka, she laughs at everything; self-medicating like that doesn’t feel like the right thing to do, though. The school excuse will probably work the best, Rose decides, and it is what she goes for. Knowing Luka, he’ll be nice enough to leave some of his stash for them to enjoy anyway; there should be enough left on Saturday if they are in the mood.

“We’ve got classes tomorrow, and I’ve got tests, don’t wanna get… You know,” she simply says.

“You do you,” Luka shrugs. “Mum, I’m not even asking. Jules?”

“Err… Not tonight, but thanks for offering,” Juleka mumbles.

“Alright, then… Well, girls, have a nice evening,” Anarka says in a sing-song voice.

That is her way of suggesting they go somewhere else, and Rose is happy to do as she is told. If she stays here, she knows her resolve will falter and so will her girlfriend’s. They’ll do whatever they feel like doing, she hasn’t given much thought to it just yet. She closes the door as she leaves the living room, to make sure that the entire houseboat won’t reek too strongly. She even makes sure all portholes are closed as she makes her way through the corridor to the bathroom. For some mysterious reason, Juleka’s things (and even her hair?) are impervious to the smell. Rose herself isn’t so lucky, and she knows all too well that if she douses herself with perfume, it will be extremely suspicious and she could do without the extra attention. She puts her toothbrush back in the glass at the same time Juleka does and they get going.

They are in their bedroom at last. Well, technically Juleka’s room since Luka moved out, but a good third of the wardrobe belongs to Rose, she has been sleeping here every other day for more than a year now, and that realisation makes her a little giddy. The overall feel of the place is definitely “Juleka” with the obscure band posters, guitars hanging from the wall and the refurbished dressing table but there are a few hints here and there that she isn’t the only person living in this room. Rose takes the small spray bottle and checks on the potted ficus tree. It could really use a drink, some of its leaves are starting to fall and she feels a little guilty for not noticing before. When she is done, she puts the bottle where it was, and gazes across the room.

Juleka is lying on the queen-sized bed, answering whatever messages she’s received in the last couple of hours, and Rose knows she should probably be doing the same and see what’s new on her Instagram feed, but she’s not really in the mood for that right now, and if she did check her phone, she knows she’d fall in a black hole of cat videos, weird fake tutorials and fancy clothes she knows she can’t afford but can’t help wanting anyway. Now, that would be a pretty lame way to spend the evening with her girlfriend right next to her, doing the exact same thing as her. Well, she could always lay in Juleka’s lap as she does so, this never gets old, but outside of that…

“Wanna give that Slowdive song another try? What was it, again… Altogether?” she calls. “Or maybe we could start an improvised photoshoot? Your old Polaroid is gathering dust…”

“Impressive as always your mind-reading skills are,” Juleka croaks. And in a normal voice, she adds, “both sound pretty good to me! Unless you wanna do something else?”

“The film is still in the fridge, right?” Rose all but states as she walks out the door.

Because of course, she already knows what the answer to that question is, and when she returns, Juleka is sitting by the dressing table with an eyeshadow brush in her hand; she has slipped into one of her many dresses, a Marinette original from the looks of it, all black lace and transparent sleeves, and for a second, Rose forgets how to breathe. She gets closer to the mirror, puts her arms around Juleka’s shoulders and lets out a happy sigh. She has to let go of her, albeit reluctantly, to allow the taller girl to get up. After that, it is all a matter of setting up the proper lights and and remembering how the little camera works and how to put the film inside.

“Help me with the zipper?” Juleka whispers. She doesn’t need that help, not really, and they both know that, Marinette has designed the dress so that she could put it on her own. Nonetheless, Rose is glad to oblige, and perhaps she takes more time than is absolutely necessary, but Juleka is not one to complain about that, she even leans in the touch. Rose can’t complain about that either, but she knows she needs to let go eventually, otherwise the dress will end up on the floor in a matter of seconds and the Polaroid will return on the shelf much faster than anticipated.

Among her many hobbies, taking photographs of the girl she’s in love with ranks fairly high in her list. These are usually good times, just the two of them, most of the time in Juleka’s — their— bedroom, sometimes outdoors when the light feels special. She is no Annie Leibovitz just yet, but there are a few pictures both girls are genuinely happy with. For a second, Juleka looks soulful through the Polaroid lens, it’s not just the camera playing tricks on Rose, and she isn’t sure she should be taking the shot. The expression vanishes when Juleka turns to look at her and gives her a small smile that reaches her eyes. This one she will take, she decides. She helps her favourite model find the right poses, they chat and laugh.

The curse on Juleka has been lifted, or perhaps this is just a magic power Rose has developed. Not only is she able to hear Juleka no matter how low she speaks but she can also snap good pictures of her almost every time she tries without anything bad happening to her. She doesn’t believe in soulmates, not really, the more she thinks of it the less she likes the implication it has, but that could be an explanation for that. Before either of them notice, they run out of film, which cuts the photoshoot short. There is still one photograph they could take if they tried, the two of them. Perhaps a selfie? Or… The tripod isn’t hard to set up in the right place, facing the fairy lights near the window. She has forgotten how the timer work but Juleka hasn’t, and the batteries haven’t died just yet.

“It’s not fair if you’re all dressed up and I’m just…” Rose motions towards herself. Her fluffy pink jumper wouldn’t look like much next to Juleka’s fancy dress. She knows she has said the right thing when a grin forms on her girlfriend’s lips. She is so efficient it’s almost scary. Before she knows it, she is wearing a white blouse with a lavallière and a pair of high-waisted trousers (a different colour from the ones she was wearing before), her lips are redder. She sets up the timer and runs to be next to her girlfriend, leans in her touch. It is a great picture, they find out when it is fully developed, perhaps the best in the entire shoot. They’ll definitely get more film next time, it’s expensive but ultimately worth it.

“I don’t know about you but I’m still in the mood for making music,” Rose says as she puts the camera back on the shelf. “It’s getting a bit late…”

“Like you care about that,” Juleka chuckles. “But yeah, let’s… Unplugged? I mean, we can go back to the music room otherwise, but…”

“Every room here is a music room,” Rose states. “It’d be a pain to set everything up again. Maybe not Slowdive, though? I have no idea how that’d sound unplugged, probably terrible.”

“Maybe not,” Juleka repeats. “How about… I don’t know… Hozier?”

“Hozier,” Rose nods, and tries her best to fight the grin that is threatening to form on her lips. This is absolutely cliché but she’d be lying if she said she didn’t know most of the lyrics to his songs.

She hands Juleka her acoustic guitar (she always has to stand on the tip of her toes to be able to reach properly) and picks up a bass for herself. She’ll never be a virtuoso the way the Couffaines are, but she has become decent enough to play alongside them without dragging them down, and Nino, who isn’t particularly close to her and a bit of a purist when it comes to music, has even called her “pretty good” that one time they had recorded together. They both stand up, easier to sing that way, and Rose waits for her girlfriend to decide what song they’ll perform. Not that Juleka ever tells her, she usually plays the first few notes on her own, and Rose catches up, sometimes it is the other way around. Tonight is no different.

They tune their instruments together and Juleka starts strumming. It takes a few bars for her to recognise the melody. They don’t play this one very often, and she rarely listens to it. G minor? This is… Sunlight, right? Alright, then. She taps the beat on her instrument’ sound box, and plays the bass line as usual, but to her surprise, Juleka is the one who starts singing, and though Rose knows her girlfriend’s voice is like —deeper than hers, fainter, almost trembling from time to time, but always pitch perfect— she cannot help but be amazed by it. And so, Rose is happy to listen to the first verse and to join her for the chorus.

_I had been lost to you, sunlight_

_And flew like a moth to you, sunlight, oh, sunlight_

_Oh, your love is sunlight_

_Oh, your love is sunlight, oh_

_But it is sunlight_

The words leave an odd taste in her mouth, but she keeps on playing anyway, and they sing the second verse together, harmonising with her has become like a second nature at this point. She finds herself smiling as they reach the second chorus, and it is when she realises she knows the rest of the music but not the lyrics; they will only be able to truly join in again for the last chorus. And so, she can only keep up the tempo and play and watch Juleka, eyes half-closed, swaying slightly to the beat.

_Oh, all these colors fade for you only_

_Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight_

_Oh, all these colors fade for you only_

_Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight_

A shiver runs down Rose’s arm, and something cold and muffled hurts in her chest when Juleka’s cloudy eyes open to look at her.

_Each day, you'd rise with me_

_Know that I would gladly be_

_The Icarus to your certainty_

_Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight_

_Strap the wing to me_

_Death trap clad happily_

_With wax melted, I’d meet the sea_

_Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight_

And Rose’s throat feel tight as they finish the song together, repeating the words over and over again, almost a chant.

_Oh, your love is sunlight_

_Oh, your love is sunlight, oh_

_But it is sunlight_

The last note dies out, slowly, Rose’s grip on the bass’s neck loosens and she knows she should say something, anything to make everything better, o lighten up the mood and reassure the girl she loves but she is no hero, she can’t put on a piece of jewellery, say a magic word and solve everything at the drop of a hat. Juleka’s shoulders look tense, she isn’t looking at her and she has this unreadable expression on her face. She isn’t asking her to go back to her parents’ as calmly as she can, she doesn’t even look angry, she’s just… Distant and silent. Rose gently sets down the instrument next to the bed. They have to talk, need to. And she had no idea where to begin. She might break Juleka if she touches her. Her mouth stays closed and she looks away.

Coward.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Juleka whispers as she puts her guitar back on its holder. She pulls her nightgown from under her pillow and starts walking out the door. “Do you want me to get you anything from the kitchen on my way back?”

“Uh… No, thanks.” Rose can barely recognise her voice. “Can I… Never mind.”

Juleka leaves the door ajar on her way out and Rose has to fight back the urge to go after her. She makes sure the acoustic bass won’t fall off the wall hanger and lets herself plop down on the bed face first. She ends up answering a whole bunch of texts and Snapchat stories, helps Hélène from her math class with an equation and gets lost on Instagram. None of it is very interesting but it keeps her eyes busy, the world dissolves around her. It’s always better than just staring at the door, listening to the sound of the shower, waiting for Juleka to return and torturing herself, wondering what she could do to make things less awful, besides, she’s going to make herself sick if she thinks about that for too long even though that would be the right thing to do.

The water stops running and she gets up and rummages through the wardrobe for something to wear in bed, with long-enough legs — Juleka doesn’t mind her not waxing her legs in the winter, but that doesn’t mean she likes the way they look like that — before she remembers that her usual pair of pyjama trousers is in the washer-dryer because of the orange juice incident. She’ll have to go for shorts, then, the blanket will be enough anyways. She waits in front of the bathroom door for a good two minutes before it opens and Juleka walks out with her hair perfectly coiffed and her face bare; the nightgown looks warm, ankle-long, white. It makes her look like an angel of some sorts.

“Bathroom’s free,” Juleka softly states the obvious when Rose doesn’t move. “There should still be enough warm water for all of us tonight.”

“See you in a few!” Rose says as she walks inside. And with that, she closes the door, and goes straight to the sink. A shower it is, then. She brushes her teeth, folds her fancy clothes neatly, they’re not dirty enough to put in the washer after all, unlike some of her laundry. As much as she likes the houseboat, she is never quite sure about the bathroom’s overall. Perhaps it is the mismatched tiles or the odd-looking plumbing fixture. Mismatched works, in most of the other rooms, but not here. Perhaps it’ll be their next great project? If she is still here to help, that is. She chases the thought away and steps inside the bathtub

Nice of Juleka to have put the faucet in the position she likes. Dad would complain about the water feeling like lava, but she likes her showers scalding hot. She feels more relaxed already, and if not for the small voice in her head that tells her that she shouldn’t forget that Luka and Anarka might want to wash themselves too, she would almost let the shower run endlessly and numb her senses, she would stay there and not think of anything at all for as long as she’d wish to. The faint ring of a church bell — is it eleven already— reminds her that she needs to get out of here someday, that she can’t escape going to bed. She scrubs herself clean, puts on her pyjamas, turns off the light when she is done and heads back to their room.

Only the lights on the bed table are on, and Juleka barely looks up from her book — _Picnic at Hanging Rock_ , was it? It’s nice that she’s started something new— before she returns to her reading. Rose picks up a something random in the bookshelf, she doesn’t bother reading the title or the blurb and she can’t focus on the words, and it isn’t tiredness. She must have read the same page for the tenth time when Juleka asks if they can turn off the light and Rose nods silently. The streetlights filter through the curtains as it always does but it isn’t enough to disturb them, the Seine flows serenely.

And she can’t find sleep, there’s a gap between her and Juleka, their arms and legs aren’t even touching. She can feel the other girl shuffling under the blanket, probably away from her, and she can picture what the scene might look like from above, the two of them facing opposite direction, leaving the middle of the bed empty, and she feels cold.

She turns, expecting to tap Juleka on the shoulder, only to end up face to face with her, and her face betrays her surprise for a moment. Hesitantly, she reaches for the other girl’s hand and pushes herself clothes to her.

“Jay, I…” she starts. “I want to stay with you, you know? This whole Paris or Marseilles thing…”

“It makes me afraid.” Juleka’s voice is so faint, so shaky, she can barely hear it and her grip tightens. “The fact that there’s nothing for us to do but wait and see, it makes you uncomfortable and it terrifies me. I’m not strong like you, the distance…”

“I’m hardly strong,” Rose gives a wet chuckle. “I’m afraid too, I don’t know if I’d be able to wake up on my own every morning.”

“That’s rubbish,” Juleka says and she is a little louder. Her fingers brush a strand of hair out of Rose’s face before settling on the girl’s face. “We’ve been together for three years, ten months…”

“And sixteen days,” Rose finishes with a small melancholy smile.

“We’ve been together for this long and you’re the strongest person I know. I don’t want us to end, and I don’t want you to give up on your dream,” Juleka whispers. “But I don’t want us to pretend that everything is fine and not talk about all of this before it happens either.”

“I… Yeah,” Rose finally says. “I’ll talk to my parents, about staying here, I promise, next thing tomorrow. I didn’t mean to upset you…”

“I’m not mad at you, just worried. If there’s any way I can help…”

“You being here for me is all I need.”

And with that, Juleka’s lips meet Rose’s, and her fingers run through Rose’s hair.

“I love you,” Rose murmurs some time after that.

“And I love you too,” Juleka says.

It takes some time for Rose to fall asleep, but she gets there eventually. Next to her, Juleka is breathing slowly, her arms around her waist. It will be alright. It won't be easy and she'll need more than just Juleka but it will be alright. At least she hopes so.

**Author's Note:**

> Bonjour, bonsoir!
> 
> I've been trying to write something Julerose for a long time, but doing so with baby lesbians wouldn't have been very satisfactory to me. So I came up with that silly question, what would happen to the secondary cast over the years if time flower normally for them, what would these characters become? And I guess this is the answer I'd give. 
> 
> Being 17, 18, when you are not the one in control of what happens next, not the one to decide where you'll go to university if you go at all… Worrisome times! The year of Terminale is one of questioning, self-doubt and doubt. Confused about what Terminale is? Don't worry, got a Tumblr post to help you understand that right [here](https://algernoninwonderland.tumblr.com/post/173480547601/writing-tips-the-french-public-secondary)! 
> 
> Musical references, you'll find them all in a few clics and hopefully they'll find their way into your playlists:  
> [Altogether](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=baFbK49FG4g), by Slowdive.  
> [Sunlight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PELeEo33JXs), by Hozier, not my favourite but a very fitting one.
> 
> If you liked this and would like to find out more about the sort of things I write/watch, if you want to ask me things, visit my [Tumblr](https://algernoninwonderland.tumblr.com)!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this!


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